I'll Do My Best
by Literary Bitca
Summary: After the events of 2x19, Liz visits Reddington at his apartment without an invitation. One shot.


I'll Do My Best

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, The Blacklist, I do not have any affiliation with them, and I make no money off of this.

Author's Note: Lots of opinions about this episode, but Reddington's secret apartment seemed like the biggest, meatiest wealth of untapped possibilities. Had to write about it. And I needed Liz to apologize. Sometimes I feel like my fics are her conscience, where she goes to say sorry and correct the bad behavior she exhibits in each episode. :) Also, thanks to Kenneth Rathers and somelikeithot88 from the FB Lizzington Shipper Group, because a good chunk of Liz's monologue in this was inspired by their discussion in one of the threads. You guys are so insightful!

...:::...

Trying to visit Reddington on the secure floor at the hospital, Liz had only gotten as far as the elevator on his floor before she'd turned around and left. The activity and panic on the agents' faces told her Reddington was no longer there, and people were going to get in a lot of trouble for his disappearance. So either he was already on his jet somewhere with a medical team willing to travel while overseeing him, or…

From the street, as she parked, Liz noted the soft light illuminating the rooms behind the curtains of the apartment she knew to be his. Dembe had immediately repossessed the key he'd given her previously, so she knocked.

No answer. She could pound on the door? She could call for back up. She could yell and demand entrance. She could shoot her way in.

In the end, she settled for sitting down, with her back against the door, her knees bent up in front of her. She opened her cell phone and set a repeating alarm for ten minutes, and lifted one hand to knock again on the door above her head. She settled down and waited.

After a little more than three hours, rapping gently on the door every ten minutes, she heard the locks turning, and felt the door give behind her. She reached back with one hand to stabilize herself so she wouldn't fall backwards into the apartment, and looked up to see Dembe's face staring down at her reproachfully.

"I told you he could never know you'd been here."

"I need to see him."

"He doesn't want to see _you_, Elizabeth. He doesn't want you here."

"I'm sorry Dembe, but I _have_ to see him," she said, pushing up and into the apartment. Dembe closed the door and started after her, catching her arm firmly. With a strong yank, she wrenched herself free—he hadn't held her tightly enough to really restrain her—or hurt her. She stayed two steps ahead of Dembe down the hall, looking for the bedroom she assumed was in that direction, since there was no sign of Reddington in the main living space.

Dembe continued to argue with her presence down the hall, and finally put himself between her and the partially open door that allowed warm light to spill onto the carpet of the dark hallway. "You should not be here," he insisted.

"Little late for that," she said as she ducked under one of his outstretched arms and pushed in to the room.

She stopped just past the threshold, noting Reddington's expression of horror and anger. "_Remove her_," Red demanded with decided authority, commanding his bodyguard while never taking his eyes from Liz.

Suddenly the bulk of Dembe was blocking her view, driving her backwards into the hall again. Talking over each other, arguing about rights, and privacy, and needs, and respect, Red's firm, loud voice from the bedroom interrupted, "Dembe, stop talking and just _pick her up_."

Liz fixed Dembe with a _don't you dare_ expression, and after only hesitating for a second, Dembe leaned forward and pushed his shoulder into Liz's abdomen, lifting her swiftly in a fireman's carry hold, spinning and hefting her towards the front door.

She kicked and struggled as much as she was willing to, trying to extricate herself from the strong grip without hurting the man she considered a friend. As they neared the front door, Dembe stabilized her with one arm, reaching out to grab the door handle with the other hand. Liz felt one foot brush up against the door jam behind her, and took the opportunity to kick out harshly with both feet against the wall, propelling Dembe, off-balance, backward, and the two of them landed in an ungainly heap on the floor. As Liz scrambled to her feet, one knee pressed into Dembe's diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him—a calculated placement on Liz's part—while her other knee, quite accidentally, slammed hard into his crotch. Dembe gasped and rolled to the side and Liz staggered and paused a bit, turning to run a few steps backward on her way to Red's room again, hurling apologies over her shoulder as she went.

She skidded into Red's room and slammed the door shut behind her, throwing the small, ineffective household style lock on the knob. Almost as soon as she did, the knob rattled as Dembe tried it from the other side. Liz turned and held Red's gaze as she braced her back against the door, anticipating Dembe's next move. A heavy thud accompanied what Liz assumed was the bodyguard's shoulder slamming into the door, and she realized one or two more hits and he'd be in the room.

Red rolled his eyes. "Dembe." Red raised his voice as Liz shook with another impact. "_Dembe_!" The noise stopped. "Don't break down my door."

Liz regarded him from her position for another few seconds, listening to Dembe's footfalls as he retreated back down the hall to the main space of the small apartment. Maintaining her stance, braced against the door across the room from Reddington, she noted, "In any other safehouse, you'd have told Dembe not to break down 'the' door. You said 'my' door." Reddington stayed silent. "This doesn't look like your usual hide out. There's no…vaulted ceilings. No pool. No extravagance." She shifted her weight and placed both palms flat against the door behind her hips. "There's _linoleum_ in the kitchen." Still no response. "This is _yours_," Liz said gently, her eyebrows raising meaningfully.

"You are not allowed to be here. Leave."

"No. Why aren't you at the hospital?"

"I'm safer here. Now, Lizzie? _Leave_."

"Why? You've been all through every single place I've lived. Why don't I get to see yours?"

"This isn't the same."

"You've been in my bedrooms. You've had me surveilled."

"I've never put cameras in your shower."

"Is that what this is? Me being in this apartment makes you feel naked?"

Reddington swallowed and clenched his teeth. "What _lie_ do you want me to tell you tonight, Lizzie? What answer would make you…_feel good_?" he said, a cold, angry edge to his voice.

Liz dropped her eyes to the floor, briefly, chastized, before raising them again. She didn't look back at Reddington, however, and instead allowed her eyes to rove around the room, which she hadn't entered during her last visit alone. Reddington continued to glare at her.

"You have a cat," she said.

"They're more self-sufficient than dogs."

"Of course. You'd respect that." Liz nodded. "They're also not as affectionate," she pointed out.

"This one is."

"What's its name?"

"Why are you here, Lizzie?"

"I wanted to check on you. And I wanted to… apologize… for what I said the last time we spoke."

"Apology accepted," he responded automatically, and without emotion. "It's late. Go home; get some sleep."

Liz finally looked back at Reddington, sitting propped up on several pillows against a worn, carved wood headboard. He still had a single IV attached to one arm, and under the blankets and quilts layered on the bed, he was wearing a thick, dark blue terrycloth robe, despite the apartment being warm.

"You've confessed quite a bit to me lately. Not all of it, as you said… but a lot. And I've learned a lot. About the Fulcrum, about your…situation. About the Cabal."

"If you have more questions, I've told you everything I plan to for the moment, so you'll have to—"

"No," she interrupted, "no, that's not why I'm here. I wanted to explain a few things from my end. You know a lot about me, but you don't know what goes on in my head. You told me your motivation for hiring Tom… I'd like to try to give you some insight into _my_ actions as well." Reddington's face was unreadable. "Will you let me do that? And then I promise I'll leave."

"And not come back here."

"…and then I promise I'll leave," she repeated pointedly.

"Lizzie, I've had this…place… for…" Reddington trailed off, and Liz wondered if he was just doing the math, or was hesitant to admit the actual number of years to her. "…a very long time. It's been secret, and safe. The only way I get to _keep _this is if it stays that way. I know about it, and Dembe knows about it. No one else comes here. If you come here again, I will have to give this up." Reddington looked at her with an almost pleading expression. "Don't make me take this place apart. Let me keep this. When you leave tonight…don't ever come back here."

Liz felt a swell of pity that she was sure would infuriate him if he knew about, so she carefully arranged her face into a neutral expression and nodded. "Okay."

"So then…what did you want to tell me?" Reddington turned his face to the window on the other side of the room, and Liz could see he was supremely uncomfortable with the entire situation. A small amount of regret at her own obstinance crept in, but she pushed forward, figuring expediency was her best option at this point.

"Someone like you—one of the FBI's most wanted criminals; a notorious thief, liar, and murderer—comes into a person's life with intimate, inexplicable knowledge of personal details of that person's past and present… A man, dripping with charisma and innuendos, insisting on a close, almost daily relationship with a younger, married woman, invading not only her career, but her personal life as well. Objectively, can you see the picture I'm painting?" Reddington didn't respond. Liz sighed. "Most women, frankly, would have been scared of you, and your intensity, and your passion."

Reddington's mouth opened slightly, and his brow furrowed as his gaze skipped from the window to the dresser across from him, but didn't make it all the way back to Liz before returning to the far side of the room again.

"A lot of women would have refused to allow the liberties you took from the very beginning. If you were just Joe Smith down the block, most women would have gotten a restraining order by now." Liz shifted her weight and looked down at her feet. "What I'm trying to say is, there's no handbook on how to deal with a man like you, in a situation like this. I think our relationship, whatever it happens to be, on any given day, is…singular. I'm a mess, frankly. I know that." Reddington finally swung his eyes back to Liz, and she looked up to meet them. "And I think right now you are, too. So… no one has to tell me I have problems; I know I have problems. I've been doing my best to ignore them for a really long time now. Some of them are entirely because of you, and others…have been solved by you. Which I _do_ appreciate. I don't always agree with your methods, but—" Liz stopped, not wanting to turn this into an admonishment. "You're a scary guy, Reddington. For all the music boxes, and compliments, and affectionate housecats, just remember: you're a scary guy, and yet it's been two years, and each time I say I'm going to leave… I don't. Some of my reactions have been a bit… extreme, but… if you want patience from me, all I ask for is the same from you. Just… be patient with me."

Reddington bobbed his head, his brow creased, and said nothing.

Liz pushed off the door. "Well, I think that's about it. I'll leave you to get some rest." Liz turned and twisted the small lock on the handle, and opened the door. "And Reddington?" she added, turning back to him momentarily. "You scared the crap out of me with this," she said, waving her hand generically at him and his IV pole. "Don't do it ever again, okay?"

Reddington let out a long breath, and one side of his lips tugged slightly. "I'll do my best," he promised.

Liz nodded, and slipped out the door, closing it behind her.

...:::...

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it! Let me know if you didn't!


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